


Girls' Night

by Kablob, mylordshesacactus



Category: RWBY
Genre: Arcane Feminine Sleepover Rituals, F/F, Past May/Winter, Pegging, Reminiscing About Egg Moments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:20:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26311036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kablob/pseuds/Kablob, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mylordshesacactus/pseuds/mylordshesacactus
Summary: Sometimes you need to treat your trans girlfriend to the kind of formative little girl experiences that she didn't get to have when she was a kid, like sleepovers. Sometimes those sleepovers end in some decidedly un-G-rated content.You know, gal pal stuff.
Relationships: Joanna Greenleaf/Robyn Hill, Joanna Greenleaf/Robyn Hill/May Marigold/Fiona Thyme, May Marigold/Fiona Thyme
Comments: 39
Kudos: 179





	Girls' Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [You Know Who You Are](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=You+Know+Who+You+Are).



> This fic is dedicated to a /very/ dear friend of mine who all but directly requested it from me. She must remain anonymous but if you know, you know.
> 
> This fic is also dedicated to myself and, frankly, to every trans girl out there who constructed elaborate scenarios in their head that gave them social excuses to wear dresses while maintaining plausible deniability that it was involuntary.

Fiona locked the door and grinned. “There! We’ve finally got the gross couple out of the house. Now it's time for _girls’ night!”_

“We are also a gross couple,” May said flatly behind her. “And we are also both dating Robyn. And Joanna. All four of us are—”

Fiona turned and pointed a sharp finger in May’s direction. “Shut up. Girls’ night.”

“Right.” May rolled her eyes on principle but didn’t bother hiding her smile. Fiona had been planning this for weeks, longer than Robyn and Joanna had any kind of formal plans for the anniversary dinner that was getting them conveniently out of the way.

In all honesty, ‘Girls’ Night’ was half an excuse to _make_ those two go out and have a nice quiet evening. Robyn always protested any kind of self-indulgence; but Fiona was the only one of the four of them who’d had _any_ kind of passably normal girly childhood, and her insistence that May deserved the retroactive slumber party experience had finally convinced her.

Joanna threatening to pick her up and carry her to a nice restaurant had helped, too. Robyn was secretly a romantic; and it was their anniversary, after all.

For Robyn and Joanna, that meant the anniversary of the day they’d first moved into an apartment together. Not that they’d been _together_ at the time, that had come later; but it had marked the beginning of their partnership, their first real, committed step in becoming the Huntresses that Mantle had always deserved. Fiona, who was also a romantic and made no secret of it, considered her anniversary with Robyn to be the day of their first kiss, which was so sweet it could give a Megoliath diabetes.

May’s “anniversary” was always and forever the day they’d met. There would never be a day that came close to meaning more to her.

No matter how all-in Fiona was going with, uh, 'Girls’ Night'.

“So,” said May, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet. Fiona had gathered a frankly alarming number of arcane ‘supplies’ over the past month and was refusing to explain what half of them were for, and she was...possibly more giddy about finding out than she was willing to admit. “What...where do we...start?”

Fiona danced in place, hands flying with excitement. “Oh! Over there.”

May looked over her shoulder, but Fiona appeared to be pointing toward the only empty corner of the apartment. She heard the telltale whisper of Fiona’s Semblance behind her, and started to turn back. “What—”

Fiona’s overstuffed pillow hit her full in the face like a freight transport.

* * *

A brief war (that Fiona won), several bowls of ice cream, a cheesy romcom, and some nail polish later, Fiona thought that May’s first proper sleepover was going wonderfully. Fiona would _love_ to play Truth or Dare next, except that Robyn had explicitly forbidden the two of them from playing Truth or Dare unsupervised, which was extremely oppressive and controlling of her and there was absolutely no good reason to do such a thing. So just Truth, then.

“So…” Fiona, lying flat on her stomach, carefully dabbed the finishing touches of a rising falcon onto May’s sparkling navy-blue thumbnail. “What’s your biggest secret?”

_“Uh.”_

At May’s wide-eyed expression, Fiona hastily added _“Fun_ secret, May. It’s a sleepover, not therapy.”

“Oh.” May’s shoulders dropped in relief. “ _Fun_ secret. Right...uh...”

Fiona sighed. “For example. You know how I overlapped a little with Robyn and Joanna in the academy? _Totally_ had a sex dream about Robyn once.”

May gave her a dubious look. _“Once?”_

Fiona threw a handful of popcorn in her face. “Oh wow, look, it’s your turn.”

“Ugh...fine. Okay. If we’re talking embarrassing Academy stuff…” May cringed a little. “Look, promise not to laugh?”

“Of course,” Fiona lied.

May plucked a popcorn kernel out of her hair and blatantly bought time for herself by eating it. “So...you guys aren’t my first, uh...I had a girlfriend in the Academy.”

_“Really?!”_

May shot her a glare. “You could be a _little_ less surprised."

“...Suuuure,” Fiona said unconvincingly, “of _course._ When we met you totally struck me as someone who...knew how to...people…”

“Look. _Look.”_ May jabbed a finger at her. “Shut up. But also _yes,_ it was actually even worse than you’re thinking.”

Fiona’s eyes narrowed. “...Who was it?”

“Okay...so like...don’t laugh.”

“The more you drag this out the more intrigued I am,” Fiona warned her, taking May’s hand back to check that all her gesticulating hadn’t damaged all that hard work on her nails. As if May would ever risk something like that. “I’d rip off the bandage if I were you.”

“...Winter Schnee.”

Fiona just _stared_ at her for a moment, and then she burst out laughing.

_“Fiona!”_

Fiona wheezed helplessly, facedown on the ratty carpet. “Oh my _gods.”_

“You said you wouldn’t laugh, you bitch.”

 _“Yeah but you knew I was lying!_ Oh my _gods!”_

May whacked her over the head with a pillow, which she deserved. “Listen. _Listen.”_

“I’m _listening.”_ Fiona kicked her feet up in the air behind her and put on her best shitty grin. “Wait, _Winter Schnee_ is gay?”

“No—” May stopped herself and made a face, visibly recalculating. “Well actually probably, yeah, but like. I was a guy.”

“You weren’t, though.”

“You know what I mean. But yeah. Winter and I lost our virginity to each other when we were...nineteen? It was very embarrassing.”

Fiona waved her hand vaguely. “Ah, everyone’s bad at sex when they’re nineteen.”

 _“Yep that sure was part of it!”_ May buried her face in her hands again. “Look, the _actual_ embarrassing part is that we dated for like two years, and—”

“...Ooh, yeah, that _is_ embarrassing.”

 _“Ha ha, you’re very funny.”_ May flicked a piece of popcorn into Fiona’s eye, which was, frankly, rude and hurtful of her. “It wasn’t even like...look, we were both _so bad at it._ Like, you know how I was?”

“Was?”

“Shut up. She’s _exactly the same,_ though. I think we were both just kinda like...oh look, I’m dating someone of the opposite gender who is Of Sufficient Rank, okay, I’m Performing Heterosexuality, get off my case, _mom,_ you know?”

“No, yeah, that makes sense. Still, though…” Fiona stifled another giggle. “How did that even like...what are the mating rituals of the Atlesian aristocrat? Did you have to fill out a form?”

“Complex political negotiations,” May deadpanned. “But it was actually like. Look. It was a whole _thing_ and it was _really stupid.”_

“I _love_ really stupid! That’s why I’m dating Robyn.”

 _“Wow._ She’s not even here to defend herself.”

Fiona handwaved this treachery. “She deserves it, now stop trying to change the subject.”

“Okay, okay...so like, you can probably guess I had to interact with the Schnees a lot.”

“Your life is a nightmare.”

“Yup!” May briefly made finger guns at her before returning her chin to its resting place on her palm. “But it was _mostly_ Winter, since we’re the same age. And she's just me, but worse, and also a bootlicker.”

“Is that...literal?”

 _“No!_ Oh my gods.” 

_“Wait no_ what am I talking about, you couldn’t dom your way out of a paper bag, did Winter make _you_ lick her boots?”

May had turned red, which did _not_ go with her complexion at all. “Wh—n—that’s not—you said _one embarrassing secret!”_

 _“I used to play the oboe,_ now spill the bootlicking!”

“You’re a menace. _Anyway,_ we were in the Academy the same year, and we kinda hated each other, so we were _super_ competitive.”

“...Ohhhh I see where this is going.”

 _“Shut up._ Top two in the sparring class.”

“Uh huh. So did you two end up fucking on the training floor or—”

“I will _carve you into spareribs_ if you keep _doing that._ But it was second year, we were in sparring class, we drew against each other again, we were bantering—”

“Did the rest of the class have a betting pool on when you two would bang?”

 _“Yes,_ actually. Found that out later.” May shot her a dry look, and Fiona fluttered her eyelashes innocently in return. “But like...the banter was a normal thing with us, okay? I mean, I was a cocky bitch at most people in sparring. Me and Harriet Bree used to go at it a lot—and _no,_ I didn’t sleep with her too, unlike Winter she actually _knew_ she was gay—but me and Winter would get _super_ into it. All that crap about proving ourselves and family honor and whatever bullshit we were using to cover up how horny we were. So...there was this costume party coming up…”

“Oh no.”

“And I...was feeling very confident in winning that day, and I maybe possibly said something about attaching stakes to it that involved her going in a maid outfit…”

May was an evil traitorous bitch, because she’d said that while Fiona was drinking her soda and it was _absolutely_ on purpose. “And she actually _did it?”_

_“It gets worse.”_

“Sorry, hang on.” Fiona held up a finger and closed her eyes, breathing deep. “I think I need a minute to savor the idea of a Schnee wearing a skimpy service uniform.”

“Oh you’ll _love_ this next part, then. So I say it, there’s a lot of snickering from the peanut gallery, and then Winter just looks at me and goes—” May’s voice gained about eight levels of smug imperiousness. _“Vice-versa.”_

“...No. _No.”_ Fiona's jaw dropped.

“Yeah! Yeah. So after my nonexistent ovaries had _shot up into my lungs_ because a hot mean girl just threatened me with a good time _,_ I obviously agreed.”

“She beat you.”

 _“Listen.”_ This was actually the hardest Fiona had ever seen May blush. “I _could_ have taken her. But I was too busy being torn between wanting to win and wanting to _lose_ that I got distracted and lost anyway.”

“...Why would you _want_ to lose?” The idea of intentionally throwing a match with anyone, let alone Jacques Schnee’s eldest daughter, seemed like something that would revolt May to her core.

May gave her a pitying look. “Oh honey, you really are cis. Look, it’s...a thing. Obviously I didn’t _know_ then, but...you know before you know, you know what I mean? That sentence was a disaster, I’m sorry—”

“No, no, I get what you mean. You wanted, like...excuses. To break the rules without getting in trouble.”

Worrying about _getting in trouble_ wasn’t something Fiona usually associated with May Marigold. But this was different. Everything was harder, when you were just a kid. May had been in her twenties by the time it was safe for her to be a little girl.

Fiona squeezed her hand. May squeezed back, almost unconsciously, as she continued.

“Exactly! Exactly. And obviously the way that my very masculine very manly brain decided to stick it to the hot bitchy girl who wanted to put me in a dress was to take it _way more seriously_ than anyone expected.”

“Of course! That’s the natural response.” Fiona didn‘t bother repressing her grin. Because it _was_ funny, in an _oh honey_ kind of way.

“Yup! So, you know, I showed up and I was, if I do say so myself, _super hot,_ one thing led to another led to the two of us making out in a closet, you can fill in the rest.”

“...It was a literal closet.”

May snorted. _“The irony has not escaped me,_ Fiona. But I think it escaped Winter. Nothing at _all_ to read into about how the first guy she was actually attracted to was, uh…”

“A girl pretending to be a guy pretending to be a girl?”

“Yeah, that. And then it went on for like a year and a half longer than it should have because neither of us knew what a healthy relationship was. Happy with the story?”

 _“Very.”_ An exceptionally juicy thought occurred to Fiona. “...You wore it for her more than once, didn’t you?”

She was rewarded with several popcorn kernels in her face. _“Shut the hell your mouth,_ Fiona!”

“You did!”

“Ugh.” May buried her face in her arms. “Fine! Yes. For the record, _she_ was just as into it as _I_ was and frankly I think that’s more embarrassing for her. At least I have an excuse.”

“Right. Sure. _Totally_ not embarrassing for you.”

“No,” agreed May, knocking back half a glass of soda like it was a shot. “The embarrassing part is that I actually still have it.”

Fiona’s ears rotated very slowly forward. 

_“Do_ you now?”

* * *

Robyn hummed.

Joanna’s arm around her waist tightened warmly, encouraging her to lean back into the embrace, just a little.

Robyn, who’d been fiddling with her keys, paused to rest her head back against Joanna’s shoulder, looking up at her with a soft smile. “That was nice,” she murmured, and let her eyes close as Joanna dropped a kiss onto her forehead.

It wasn’t the kind of thing they could afford very often—every year at least one of them would end up having to postpone an anniversary celebration for the greater good, and more years than not, even when they could manage something it wasn’t a proper evening out. She’d forgotten how warm it felt, just the two of them, actively avoiding talking about work and _mostly_ being able to stick with it.

She and Joanna had even softened enough to dress up for the occasion. It had been years since Robyn had seen that hunter-green dress she was so fond of; though she thought Joanna was somewhat overstating the effect of Robyn digging out an old suit. Honestly, it was _barely_ a shade nicer than her actual combat gear—she strongly suspected that what Joanna actually appreciated was the unnecessary number of buttons she’d left undone. Still; it was nice sometimes to be _people_ as well as Huntresses. 

Which was not, of course, to say they were unarmed. Robyn was feeling _romantic,_ not stupid.

“It was really nice,” Joanna agreed. She gave Robyn another affectionate squeeze, then smirked. “You didn’t even _try_ to fistfight the manager this time.”

“That was _once.”_ Spell broken, Robyn swatted lightly at Joanna’s chest before digging out her keys properly and swiping their building-entry card. It only took two tries, because this was midsummer. In the winter, the card readers iced over so badly that building management generally just deactivated the entire external door lock system. “That was _one time._ And I was right that the waitresses were underpaid.”

“Mmmhmm.” Joanna held the door for her. “I never said you weren’t. All I said was that you could just leave a twenty-five percent tip like a normal person.”

“And I did! That’s not the point.”

The elevator was out of service, so they took the stairs. The elevator had actually been out of service since before they’d moved in, despite the number of times Robyn had had _polite conversations_ with the landlord about regulations for disabled access.

“Joanna,” she said, “remind me to have May terrify the landlord into submission if the elevator isn’t fixed by next week.”

Joanna offered her a gentlemanly hand up the unreliable first half-flight of stairs, which Robyn accepted along with the mild tug that pulled her into a kiss on the landing.

“May gets to have all the fun,” Joanna teased as they climbed the cramped staircase to the fifth floor, trying very hard not to breathe between the third and fourth-floor landings on account of the deeply suspicious new species of mold establishing itself there.

Fiona, ever the optimist, had termed their apartment a “penthouse suite”.

“I hope they’ve been having fun,” Robyn said as she fiddled with her keys. Storage unit, unofficial copy of the key to the breaker room because emergency maintenance was literally _never_ on call, Pietro’s clinic backdoor, storage unit that they had no legal connection with, safe deposit box— _there_ we go! “Fiona’s had a gleam in her eye over this girls’ night thing.”

“Oh I’m sure they had a blast,” Joanna said, grinning. “Painting their nails, trying on clothes, talking about cute boys…”

“Well, maybe not that last one.” Laughing, Robyn shouldered the door open.

“...liked _that,_ huh, Marigold? You know, a Mantle girl could get used to—”

Fiona cut herself off abruptly as Robyn paused, one hand still on the doorknob, in the entrance to the living room.

There were a pair of worn sleeping bags unrolled in the middle of the floor, despite the fact that they owned a bed. Somehow multiple surfaces had been covered in glitter in the past few hours. A half-finished board game lay abandoned on the sleeping bags, next to empty bags of chips and a crumpled two-liter bottle of soda. Multiple varieties of nail polish had been lovingly set out on the hardwood floor. She’d been expecting Fiona and May curled up in pajamas on the couch to complete the picture, watching a movie or something, being extremely cute. Possibly having built a pillow fort.

She had _not_ been expecting May, clad in a frilly black-and-white maid dress, being bent over the breakfast table and pounded from behind by a very naked Fiona.

“...Huh,” Robyn said, very intelligently.

After a moment, Fiona raised the hand that _didn’t_ have a death-grip on May’s ponytail and waved awkwardly. “Heyyyyy...guys. Nine PM already, huh?”

May—who could very much see them thanks to Fiona having her head wrenched back—moaned brokenly, with even more intelligence than Robyn.

Very carefully, Joanna pried the doorknob from Robyn’s hand and closed the door before Mrs. Jenkins across the hall decided to let any of her cats out at this precise moment.

After a very long, very awkward moment where Fiona visibly raced for a way she could possibly explain whatever this was and also made no move to extricate herself from May's posterior, she finally managed a guilty grin. “May’s...never been to a sleepover before?”

 _“Apparently neither have I,”_ Joanna muttered.


End file.
